


With Ears to See and Eyes to Hear

by nonexistentjams



Category: Undertale
Genre: F/M, UnderTone
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-12
Updated: 2016-12-12
Packaged: 2018-09-08 02:50:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,715
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8827549
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nonexistentjams/pseuds/nonexistentjams
Summary: You're just an average girl living in an average city. And just like an every average girl, you like music. You want to visit this newly opened music store and when you do, you end up meeting someone who loves music as much as you do. And he happens to own the store. Only thing is: he's blind. He can't see that you are actually far  from average...





	

**Author's Note:**

> Undertone is great  
> This sucks  
> But Undertale

It's breezy outside. Winter's on its way you guess. You decide to grab your jacket just in case it does get colder throughout the day. Yes, you were spending it outside, so what? You wanted to check out a new music shop that you just found out had opened up about a month ago. How you didn't find out sooner is beyond your comprehension.

When you step outside, a gust of chilly wind slams into your face and you take a step back. Yep, winters coming. You lock the door and walk out onto the street, zipping up your jacket. You lived on the outskirts of a major city in your state but it was still a good walking distance to the streets that led you into said city. 

When you enter the city, you see shops of all different colors and their signs swinging in the wind. Some of the shop owners or restaurant keepers wave or smile your way. You do the same. Street performers dot the corners of shops and some are squeezed between the nooks of buildings. A statue-man stands as still as...well, a statue. You smile and wave. The corner of his mouth tuning up, he lifts his hand robotically and waves back. Another man smashes his Vic Firth's on cans and make-shift drums. The vibrations pound beneath your feet and you can feel it in your heart, all kept in time. You clap when he finishes and leave two dollars. 

Eventually you find the shop, having passed by it accidentally a few times. It was hard to find for it was squished between a busy art store and a crowded, rich smelling bakery. (Thing of the Little's house in Stuart Little :3) The sign was crafted out of cheap splintering wood, like most signs, but the name was scrawled with messy, uneven hand script, like they didn't even know what they were doing. You frown and walk into the shop, making sure your beanie covered your ears and hair. 

The shop was tiny, much like the other shops in the city, but it was a little unorganized. You were about to walk around when a little peep is heard to your right. You turn and find a small figure sitting behind the glass counter-cabinet which held guitar pedals along with reeds and mouthpieces. He wore a bulky grey jacket with darker-grey patches on the elbows. A rather large scarf, which was decorated with various music notes and keys, was wrapped around the bottom half of his face and blue headphones with black quarter notes on the circles were on his head. 

He sat up slightly and I could see him better. He was...a skeleton. Ah. A monster. You remember watching a news report, the title reading that the barrier was broken from the Underground. You don't remember much about the rest since you fell asleep but you remember that humans shut the monsters underground long ago. Well, at least their free. This is actually your first time encountering one. You walk up.

You then notice that his right eye socket is blank, you figured, but the other one is filled with a suspended white music note that seems to follow the movements of his head. Cute. When you stand at the counter, he looks at you. Well...not at you exactly. The music note was sort of hanging lower, but not too low to make you feel uncomfortable. You raise an eyebrow and his pale-boney hand pulls down the scarf to reveal his mouth a little. 

"Can I help you?" He asks you. You shake your head no...then wait. No response. Maybe he didn't see you. 

"No thank you." You say, hoping it's not too loud or quiet. He nods, "If you need anything, please ask.." he says, his voice disappearing towards the end so you had to guess what he said. He's shy you guess. You nod and walk away. 

The store was filled with various instruments and items such as guitars, drums, violins and other band necessities. You walk over to a guitar and pluck at a string, enjoying the familiar vibration reverberating on your finger. You own an acoustic at home but you've been thinking about electric. The drums look interesting, so you walk over to them. You've played them before and boy, did you love them but your mom would get mad at you from the constant noise so you had to quit. 

The memory brings a sharp pain to your heart and clogs up your throat. You swallow and move on to the piano. Now, the piano is your main instrument, guitar being your close second. Your fingers brush over the keys. Yours at home is collecting dust along with your many instruments for reasons you aren't okay with sharing. 

The whole reason why your here is: one, you want to get over those reasons and pick your instruments again and two, your guitar needs new strings. So why not get them from a freshly-opened music store? You walk over to the rack, find the strings and bring them to the counter and the monster. He sits up and you realize that if he were to stand up, he'd be taller than you. 

You frown.

He picks the packet up, turns it over in his hands, crinkles the plastic a bit and then reaches over, hits his hand on the register before finally grabbing the scanner. You wonder if he needs glasses as the red light scans over the barcode. The boy's hand hovers over the keys to the register for a bit, then he punches in some numbers and a little receipt spits out. He fumbles for a bag and hands your money along with the bagged guitar strings. 

He mumbles a small thank you and puts his head down again. You decide to make small talk. 

"When did you open this store?" You ask, hoping again that your voice is at a satisfying level. 

"One month ago." You make out. 

Your fingers twiddle out of habit when you talk but you keep them in your jacket pockets. 

"I can tell you enjoy music."

This causes his to perk up a bit, "Do you?" 

"Yes." You fiddle with your ear a bit. 

The music note in his eye socket seemed more bright somehow but still glazed over, not exactly meeting your gaze. 

"I love music." He says. 

"Did they have music in the Underground?" 

This his a soft spot. His body stiffens and the music note dims slightly. 

You hold up your hands, " I am sorry, I did not-"

"It's okay. I don't get many questions about it is all." The boy replies, his body relaxing but not quite. "To answer, yes. There was a lot. My brother and I both enjoyed it together." 

"A brother? Where is he?"

Another touchy topic. He fiddles with his hands slightly. You start to say your sorry again but he cuts you off saying, "Please don't apologize. I'm not a social person so if my actions concern you in some way, it's because of that reason." 

You relax as he continues, "If you want to know, I can tell you."

You nod, tugging at your ears again and reading his...teeth, "okay." He's silent before speaking again, you leaning closer. 

"To start off, I was born blind."

Oh. 

That makes sense: the glazed over looks, the messy sign and unorganized shop.

"My older brother, Papyrus, did his best to take care of me and helped me coop with my blindness. These headphones," he reaches up and touches the music note engraved into the plastic, "were a gift from him. They work like normal headphones but they also help me 'see' in a way. I use them as a sort of radar to help guide me around the world. Papyrus thought that they would be a use to me when he wasn't there to walk me around." 

He pauses and grips his scarf while I refrain from messing with my ears and I pull my beanie down further. 

"One day, human entered the Underground. When I met them, they were actually helpful and helped guide me around and we both listened to the beautiful music that filled the Underground. But it didn't last long.

"Papyrus had said goodbye to me when he went out but it wasn't like the traditional goodbye. It was more...official. He wouldn't tell me what was going on and when he didn't come back after hours of waiting, I went looking for him. I tried to retrace his footsteps using magic to help me hear where he he had stepped hours ago. I found where he stopped but I didn't find Papyrus. Only his scarf..

"It only hit me then that the Underground was quiet. It's never quiet. It's always alive with music and laughter but that day it was deathly quite. I only knew who could've done this. The human. I followed their footsteps and eventually faced off against them. They had hit me, I was sure of it. But I didn't die..." he clutches the scarf close to him, "there was, and still is, magic in the scarf, Papyrus'. And every time the human hit me, I was brought back because of his magic. He didn't want me to die, he wants to protect me. Eventually, the human gave up and I acquired their soul and broke the barrier. Unfortunately, I was the only monster left. The human had killed everyone."

The silence was heavy. You could make out most of it and some parts you had to piece together but in the end, you could feel tears pricking your eyes. It was terrible what he went through. A shy-helpless little monster lost his brother and had to go against the person who extinguished his whole species. 

You want to apologize but then you remember his plead.

"What about you?" He asks. 

You weren't sure what he meant nor were you paying attention so you didn't know what he said so you just said you name.

"I am (Y/N)."

"Sans but everyone called me Tone." 

Past-tense. Ouch. 

"What about you? What is your story?" He says quietly. He's shy but determined. Well, no use in hiding it. Now that you know he can't see you, you pull your hands out of your pockets and as you speak, they move with your words,

"I cannot hear well. Only a small bit. I am considered deaf." 

Sans-oops- Tone's eye sockets grow wide. 

"Then you can't hear me? Or music?" He asks.

You shake your head, "Not exactly, I wear something to help me hear better but I still can't hear like I use to." 

He nods, "Your speech patterns are a little off that of a normal speaker but did you say, 'like I use to'?" 

Your hands dance around with your words, trying to form them in time with your hands, "Yes. I was not born deaf."

"Mind if I ask?"

"It's okay."

You feel comfortable with telling him. He's disabled like you and he seems like the reliable type. You begin with your childhood:

You never knew your father but your mother was always around. You fell in love with music at a young age and you taught your self how to play the guitar and piano followed by the drums which were cut short. Band was sort of your relaxing time during school and at that point, you had decided you wanted to be a band teacher when you grow up. 

Then one day, you got sick. 

You woke up one day to needing to throw up and you had to stay home. This continued for several days, to the point where your mother admitted you to the hospital. It turned out, you had a tumor in your brain that was growing by the second. You were removed from school for at least 2 months and you were often switched from the ICU to the regular hospital floor. 

Eventually the doctors stopped the tumor and removed it, but not before it could eat away at the nerves in your brain that sent signals to your ears, causing you to never hear again. The first few months were excruciating cause you could never listen or play music again. All that came out was silence. 

You were sent to a deaf school so that you could learn and coup with your disability, over the years your hearing gradually came back but you knew it could never be as good as it once was. You often compare it to listening to music on the lowest setting. Constantly. 

Tone looks at you when you finish, "Where's your mom?" 

You shake your head, "She left when she was told that I wouldn't be able to hear anymore." 

He didn't push. 

"Do you have something to help you hear better, like how I have my headphones?" 

You nod, you hands dancing again, "yes. I have a hearing aid that allows the vibrations of noise to bounce off of my ear drums better so that I can get a sense of my surroundings." 

Tone cocks his head slightly. I smile and offer if he wants to feel. He complies. 

You take a stool from its place next to an amp and sit in front of the counter, leaning over the glass. You take Tone's hand and remove your beanie, combing down your hair before guiding his hand to your ear. When he finds it, his fingers graze over the device, then follow the wire to the plug on your head. He feels around there for a bit before talking in a low, quiet voice that is difficult to hear, "This helps you hear?" 

"Sort of." You can't help it but your hand lifts to Tone's headphones and you trace the zig-zags and quarter note. "And this helps you see?" 

"Sort of." You giggle. At least you think you do, then Tone smiles, a soft, shy one as a bluish tint rests on his cheek bones. It's the first time you've seen his smile and it's so cute. Then, before you know it, your kissing the creator of the smile. It's a little one-sided but you don't care. It's beautiful and this feeling makes you believe that anything can happen, maybe even getting your gearing back. You wonder if he thinks that as well, but with his sight. 

You both pull back for air and blue covers Tone's cheek bones, a small smile making its way on his face again. You're smiling too and you laugh. It glorious. 

Tone takes your hands and you both get yourselves together. He speaks and you try to make out as much of it as you could. 

"I think we can make this work..I can help you with your hearing."

"And I can help you with your sight!" 

This time its Tone's turn to laugh. It pains you to know that you can't fully hear it but you have an idea of what it sounds like: beautiful, like the notes to a love song and very smooth and calming. If he can help you hear him and music again, it would mean the world. But you can help him see you too. The thought of the both of you getting what you want most fills you with determination. 

Tone pokes you to get your attention.

"How do you sign, 'I love you'?"

You giggle and he smiles again. You take his hands and guide them to his heart, cross over his chest and then point at you. He then looks at you, this time, directly at you and poises one hand on his chest, crosses both over and then points at you. 

You bite your lip, tears burning your eyes and you lean over and kiss him again. He kisses back and once you part the both of you stay sitting on the stools, holding each other tightly as Tone wraps his scarf around the both of you, his shy demeanor slowly diminishing. 

You whisper, hoping it's loud enough for him to hear. 

"I love you too, Tone." 

And you hope one day that you can hear those three lovely words said right back at you.

**Author's Note:**

> AHHHHAHAHKHWUJAHHJS *gets hit by the feels train*
> 
> I CANT TELL YOU HOW PAINFUL THIS WAS TO WRITE
> 
> FUCKING TONE! SANS IS SO FUCKING CUTE THAT I CANT FUCKING EVEN AND I WANT TO FUCKING MURDER CHARA FOR FUCKING SHIT UP AND I WILL FUCKINGNDJHSDJSJNXJSNXJ
> 
> Sorry I had a Karkat moment there. 
> 
> Point is, I'm never writing Undertone again cause this shit is messy with feels and other things unknown to me that I refuse to feel and experience again. 
> 
> So sorry if this fic is just story telling but I suck a plot development so yeah. 
> 
> But if I did signing things wrong then I apologize because I have not done sign language in forever cause of school and all. Yes I know sign language. I'm let's see....one, two... quadrilingual. 
> 
> Eat it.
> 
> SPEAKING OF SCHOOL ITS TWO AM HERE 
> 
> AND I HAVE TO TOMORROW
> 
> SO BYE
> 
> Kudos to you
> 
> ~SotL
> 
> (Holy shit 2828 words...)


End file.
